Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.
Hello, Livejournal. It's been a long time and I doubt very many people are still out there. But since I am currently unemployed, with a wealth of time and a brain that is constantly moving, I'm thinking a return to this outlet could be a good thing.
Yep, I was fired. And the worst part is that it wasn't (on the surface, anyway) even for anything cool. Just sheer incompetence at the job. In February, I left The Strand for a data entry position at a small publishing house. To be honest, I felt weird about the whole thing from the start. My instinct after the interview was to not take the position if it was offered. But, as always, I did a lot of second guessing of my own motivations, and wondered if I was just scared of change. And I wanted out of The Strand, badly. Needed out. So, when they called to offer me the position, I took it. From day one, I got a strange vibe from the office environment there. There were positive things, sure. Like the fact that I got off work at 5pm instead of 6:15, and that I made noticeably more money. Also, initially, the fact that I didn't have to interact with any customers was a welcome change. But right away I knew that the work itself would be a problem. It's not that it was hard, exactly. In fact part of the problem was how mindless it was. Just line after line after line of ISBNs to enter, which, for a brain like mine, is dangerous. There was nothing to keep my brain engaged, which left all kinds of room for zoning out and making mistakes. At first, I didn't realize this, and so I was lax about double checking my work. But after being made aware of initial mistakes, I started double checking religiously. Apparently this, too, was insufficient; I was informed when I was fired that I was continuing to miss line items or enter them incorrectly, although no concrete evidence was provided. The other problem was that I was given several different types of orders to enter, all with their own sets of rules that had to be entered manually each time. I won't bore you with an explanation of their system, but it is DOS based and not at all "user-friendly." Basically, combine an at least mildly ADD brain like mine with pressure to work quickly and a set of rules that makes no sense, and you get disaster.
Then, the vibe in the office was just terrible. The same bullshit politics as The Strand, but in a smaller, more contained space, with less people. My manager, for whatever reason, clearly did not like me. Maybe because, when she pointed out mistakes, I defended myself. Maybe because I am cute and generally happy and engaging while she is abrasive, bitter, and looks like a meth addict. Or maybe I look like someone who wronged her in the past, who knows. All I know is, I was targeted. My "supervisor," the 24 year old boy who has been in order entry the longest, was at least 15 minutes late every day and never reprimanded. Yet I was called to task for lateness even though I got there before him every day. And when I made a concerted effort to be on time, the bitch (manager) found other reasons to criticize me. The moment when I was fired was surreal, but thank God I had the presence of mind to stand up for myself. There were tears, which I'm not proud of, but I made it clear that I felt I had been treated unfairly, trained improperly, and given too large of a workload. Then I gathered my stuff and left.
When I walked out I was in shock, and I stayed that way for several days. I am accustomed to rolling with the punches and being strong and unaffected, so I went with that. There was and is very real relief at not having to ever set foot in that God forsaken place again. And there was and is very real excitement at the prospect of having a few months to take stock and figure shit out. But the whole weekend after I was fired, and Monday as well, I refused to sit still and think about it. Then, Monday night, when I finally sat down alone and began to process, it hit me. I was fired from what seemed like the simplest job in the world. I was fired from the job that was supposed to be my gateway to better things. I was fired, period. No matter how you spin it, being fired sucks. I can't put this job on my resume, which is half the reason I took it in the first place; I though it would look better there than a retail job. I do not deal well with failure or rejection. In fact I deal terribly with them. So on Monday night, realizing that I had been rejected and had, in a sense, failed, I began to go a little bit crazy.
On Tuesday, I picked a couple of arguments over Facebook and text message. In hindsight I was very clearly lashing out against people close to me whom I trust; a juvenile and predictable pattern of behavior, and I hate to be juvenile or predictable. There was a sense in which I was just trying to tear my whole world apart. A bit of "alright universe, fuck you, if you're going to attempt to destroy things I will destroy them first, before you have a chance!" An attempt to swallow the pill I thought was coming whole. or rip off the band aid, or whatever metaphor you prefer.I spent two days dozing and watching That 70's Show on Instant Netflix. I'd get up and make a half assed attempt to do something; go to the kitchen for a glass of water, go pee...the effort of such things exhausted me, and I would get back in bed after five minutes. Both evenings I had engagements. Tuesday I met Nicole at the gym. Afterwards I met Hans, and with him I drank two whiskeys on the rocks, after having not had straight whiskey in a couple of years at least. Then I (through text message) pinned the boy I've been sleeping with against a wall, demanding answers he's already given or explained that he can't give. I cried on the train while listening to The Roots, not caring if anyone saw. The next day In returned to my dozing/That 70's Show watching, having crying jags every hour or so, knowing the whole time how ridiculous everything was. I refused to do laundry both days. I refused to eat a balanced meal, or much solid food at all. As breakdowns go it was pretty mild, but definitely the closest I've come to one in a long, long time.
Wednesday afternoon I started to return to normalcy. The whiskey was wearing off, and I had to go to choir practice at 7:30, so I knew I had to get myself together a bit. I sent an apology to the boy. I put some clothes on. I dragged myself to choir, which was an immense help. During choir, the boy responded, accepting the apology (though I'm not sure where we stand). Afterward I went and had a beer with a choir friend at her apartment, and a good talk. Then I came home and had some quality time with Will (my roommate and close friend). I slept well, and woke up better.
Today I finally did the laundry. I got letters from the unemployment office and food stamps office, so things are in motion in those areas. I did dishes, changed the cat litter. Started putting things back together.
I have no idea where things are going from here. I have vague ideas. Calling Brooklyn College to find out what the hell went wrong with the application I submitted months ago (they lost some documents and I dropped the ball). Spending a few weeks in Detroit with my fam. Taking a road trip with Emily. Looking for another job, but not one in retail or any other for-profit environment.
I feel traumatized but optimistic. Empty and hollowed out, but clean, and hopeful. It will be interesting to see what happens.
Yep, I was fired. And the worst part is that it wasn't (on the surface, anyway) even for anything cool. Just sheer incompetence at the job. In February, I left The Strand for a data entry position at a small publishing house. To be honest, I felt weird about the whole thing from the start. My instinct after the interview was to not take the position if it was offered. But, as always, I did a lot of second guessing of my own motivations, and wondered if I was just scared of change. And I wanted out of The Strand, badly. Needed out. So, when they called to offer me the position, I took it. From day one, I got a strange vibe from the office environment there. There were positive things, sure. Like the fact that I got off work at 5pm instead of 6:15, and that I made noticeably more money. Also, initially, the fact that I didn't have to interact with any customers was a welcome change. But right away I knew that the work itself would be a problem. It's not that it was hard, exactly. In fact part of the problem was how mindless it was. Just line after line after line of ISBNs to enter, which, for a brain like mine, is dangerous. There was nothing to keep my brain engaged, which left all kinds of room for zoning out and making mistakes. At first, I didn't realize this, and so I was lax about double checking my work. But after being made aware of initial mistakes, I started double checking religiously. Apparently this, too, was insufficient; I was informed when I was fired that I was continuing to miss line items or enter them incorrectly, although no concrete evidence was provided. The other problem was that I was given several different types of orders to enter, all with their own sets of rules that had to be entered manually each time. I won't bore you with an explanation of their system, but it is DOS based and not at all "user-friendly." Basically, combine an at least mildly ADD brain like mine with pressure to work quickly and a set of rules that makes no sense, and you get disaster.
Then, the vibe in the office was just terrible. The same bullshit politics as The Strand, but in a smaller, more contained space, with less people. My manager, for whatever reason, clearly did not like me. Maybe because, when she pointed out mistakes, I defended myself. Maybe because I am cute and generally happy and engaging while she is abrasive, bitter, and looks like a meth addict. Or maybe I look like someone who wronged her in the past, who knows. All I know is, I was targeted. My "supervisor," the 24 year old boy who has been in order entry the longest, was at least 15 minutes late every day and never reprimanded. Yet I was called to task for lateness even though I got there before him every day. And when I made a concerted effort to be on time, the bitch (manager) found other reasons to criticize me. The moment when I was fired was surreal, but thank God I had the presence of mind to stand up for myself. There were tears, which I'm not proud of, but I made it clear that I felt I had been treated unfairly, trained improperly, and given too large of a workload. Then I gathered my stuff and left.
When I walked out I was in shock, and I stayed that way for several days. I am accustomed to rolling with the punches and being strong and unaffected, so I went with that. There was and is very real relief at not having to ever set foot in that God forsaken place again. And there was and is very real excitement at the prospect of having a few months to take stock and figure shit out. But the whole weekend after I was fired, and Monday as well, I refused to sit still and think about it. Then, Monday night, when I finally sat down alone and began to process, it hit me. I was fired from what seemed like the simplest job in the world. I was fired from the job that was supposed to be my gateway to better things. I was fired, period. No matter how you spin it, being fired sucks. I can't put this job on my resume, which is half the reason I took it in the first place; I though it would look better there than a retail job. I do not deal well with failure or rejection. In fact I deal terribly with them. So on Monday night, realizing that I had been rejected and had, in a sense, failed, I began to go a little bit crazy.
On Tuesday, I picked a couple of arguments over Facebook and text message. In hindsight I was very clearly lashing out against people close to me whom I trust; a juvenile and predictable pattern of behavior, and I hate to be juvenile or predictable. There was a sense in which I was just trying to tear my whole world apart. A bit of "alright universe, fuck you, if you're going to attempt to destroy things I will destroy them first, before you have a chance!" An attempt to swallow the pill I thought was coming whole. or rip off the band aid, or whatever metaphor you prefer.I spent two days dozing and watching That 70's Show on Instant Netflix. I'd get up and make a half assed attempt to do something; go to the kitchen for a glass of water, go pee...the effort of such things exhausted me, and I would get back in bed after five minutes. Both evenings I had engagements. Tuesday I met Nicole at the gym. Afterwards I met Hans, and with him I drank two whiskeys on the rocks, after having not had straight whiskey in a couple of years at least. Then I (through text message) pinned the boy I've been sleeping with against a wall, demanding answers he's already given or explained that he can't give. I cried on the train while listening to The Roots, not caring if anyone saw. The next day In returned to my dozing/That 70's Show watching, having crying jags every hour or so, knowing the whole time how ridiculous everything was. I refused to do laundry both days. I refused to eat a balanced meal, or much solid food at all. As breakdowns go it was pretty mild, but definitely the closest I've come to one in a long, long time.
Wednesday afternoon I started to return to normalcy. The whiskey was wearing off, and I had to go to choir practice at 7:30, so I knew I had to get myself together a bit. I sent an apology to the boy. I put some clothes on. I dragged myself to choir, which was an immense help. During choir, the boy responded, accepting the apology (though I'm not sure where we stand). Afterward I went and had a beer with a choir friend at her apartment, and a good talk. Then I came home and had some quality time with Will (my roommate and close friend). I slept well, and woke up better.
Today I finally did the laundry. I got letters from the unemployment office and food stamps office, so things are in motion in those areas. I did dishes, changed the cat litter. Started putting things back together.
I have no idea where things are going from here. I have vague ideas. Calling Brooklyn College to find out what the hell went wrong with the application I submitted months ago (they lost some documents and I dropped the ball). Spending a few weeks in Detroit with my fam. Taking a road trip with Emily. Looking for another job, but not one in retail or any other for-profit environment.
I feel traumatized but optimistic. Empty and hollowed out, but clean, and hopeful. It will be interesting to see what happens.